


magic in the way that we move on

by sweetdreamsaremadeoffish



Series: Unabated Fluff [2]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Cute, F/F, Fluff, Prompt-A-Palooza, Road Trips, oh look i only write mindless fluff now, tropey, yes i'm making it a thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 07:48:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20224348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetdreamsaremadeoffish/pseuds/sweetdreamsaremadeoffish
Summary: It’s a road trip. That’s it, that’s the fic.





	magic in the way that we move on

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so my friend **@cremlim** on tumblr sent a prompt to me for my Prompt-A-Palooza 200, and I spiraled.
> 
> The song in the title, intro, and end is called “Jealous of Birds” by Bre Kennedy. It was stuck in my head while I was writing, so there. There are actually a bunch of songs in this one because I am a road trip playlister. None are mine, of course.
> 
> Jam on, kiddos.

_If I could fly in the open_  
_Over my troubles, like tiny houses they go_  
_And disappear in slow motion_  
_Would they still be there?_  
_Would I still be broken?_

They went where the road took them.

North and westward, just away. Away from the dark pit that Greendale became, away from scrutinizing eyes, away from responsibility and rhyme and reason, as if distance might ease the burdens that have been weighing on them since their world fell apart. Shattering like an eggshell, revealing something beautiful and new, blessedly alive and blinking with the shock and wonder of it all.

She’d never come this far. Frankly, the wild American frontiers never held much intrigue in her eyes. Too domestic and saturated with gunslinging horseback riders to catch her more sophisticated attention. Neither she nor Hilda got caught up in the mortals’ grand rush westward, though Ambrose has wanted to go someplace called Portland for decades now. Hollywood had long lost the elegant glow that once charmed her, and the photographs she’d seen of the arid, red terrain make her positively ill.

But Lilith had offered to drive. Despite her flummoxed curiosity, she did not ask where the Queen of Hell procured a license, nor when she’d found the time to learn amidst doing Lucifer’s dark bidding.

Convincing Zelda to go was an event of its own. Her family had finally had it with her constant exhaustion and resulting sharp tongue. She insisted she had everything under control, even as sleep slipped through her fingers in favor of late-night scripture work and crafting sermons. Truly, she convinced herself for the eighth time, leaning against the window as Joni Mitchell trilled from the dashboard stereo, their new church was steady enough to for a week in Hilda’s hands. The better part of a year had passed since their hatching, and the careful work she’d done in that time had a strong foundation that even her flighty sister couldn’t crack.

And Zelda had something new of her own blooming this winter.

In healing, the goddess and her disciple seemed to have sewn their fabrics together, quite by accident. They’d become inseparable sometime around Samhain, bonded by a mutual refusal to don polyester caricatures and cavort about Greendale like fools, instead spending the evening of Sabrina’s birthday frightening children off the Mortuary’s doorstep and awarding Hilda’s homemade sweets to the fortified few. The Solstice was fast approaching, and it would be a new beginning for the ages.

Snow started falling outside as they crossed the northern border with a snap of Lilith’s fingers. Zelda could not fathom why—perhaps spending so much time in a mortal body had influenced her more than she cared to admit—but her companion insisted upon keeping their destination secret from Zelda, intent upon surprising her when they arrived.

“Cover your eyes,” Lilith murmured over Joni’s soft call for help.

“What?”

“Cover your eyes,” she repeated. “The road signs will give it away.”

“This is absurd.” She rolled her eyes, incredulous even as she obeyed. “You’re absurd.”

Lilith’s chuckle was deep and wild as a running river, warm and rich as honey in summer. “Careful, Miss Spellman, you’re walking a dangerous line blaspheming like that. I might just have to report you to my High Priestess. I doubt she’d be as forgiving as me.”

“Well, she might pity a woman driven near to madness by your cryptic mischief,” Zelda teased, keeping her hands over her face to display her compliance to Lilith’s order, certainly not to hide the rosy blush blossoming on her cheeks.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve been the model of mystery all along.” Her voice curled in self-mockery, intertwining between them with the silver smoke of their last shared cigarette.

“_And you love your lovin’, but not like you love your free-e-e-dom_,” Joni lamented.

The purr of the engine under her, the gentle music wandering from the radio, and the peaceful, easy feeling that she’d learned to associate with Lilith lately lulled her into a state of calm she hadn’t allowed herself to embrace in quite some time. Though she was loath to admit it, she conceded that maybe her little sister was right.

A buzz of static and the station shifted like a beast in sleep. Zelda imagined red-lacquered nails twisting the dusty dial, ice-blue eyes illuminating the road ahead. Subdued guitar plucked out a smooth melody as the window left her temple cool to the touch.

“Are we there yet?”

Lilith shoved Zelda’s shoulder playfully, and Zelda shoved blindly back, flares flickering in her chest.

“Patience is a virtue.”

“I’ve been called many things in my time, Lilith, but virtuous is not one of them.”

“Oh, that must be why we get along so well.”

Zelda nodded, crossing her legs under the knit afghan Hilda sent along with her. The thing was horrendous in texture, color, and pattern, but with her eyes closed all she knew was that it provided a respite from the biting chill.

She recognized the opening verse of “Fast Car” and hummed along under her breath, remembering days past, listening to the record muffled through Ambrose’s bedroom door. The years before Sabrina were heavy with his brooding. Hilda did her best to cheer him with baked goods, snug sweaters, and an ever-available shoulder to cry on, binging tapes of BBC programs and tutoring him in the art of potion-making. Zelda showed her sympathy in other ways: namely, ensuring he accumulated the best vinyl collection money—and taste—could buy. When she bought him that record player, he’d thrown his arms around her and cried, ruining one of her favorite silk blouses.

“You can open your eyes, Zelda.”

She saw Lilith before anything else, eyes flecked with glittering ash, lit in a gold silhouette against the star and snow speckled darkness out the window.

And then, the city.

Lights shimmering on the water below in a reflective rainbow, twinkling skyscrapers spiraling upward, and bright bridges reaching out across the banks. She was stunned.

“It’s-”

“Vancouver,” Lilith announced proudly.

Zelda barked out a laugh. “I was going to say ‘beautiful.’”

Lilith bit her lip. “We have a suite booked for the night, if you’d like to leave the exploring to tomorrow.”

She turned to her, brows hovering high. “I don’t think I’m ready to turn in just yet, but if I am to stay awake, I will require some caffeine.”

“I know a place.”

“Lead on, milady.”

She shook her head fondly, crossing the bridge and entering downtown. They weave through the avenues, Zelda watching the fresh scenery tumble past. It’s been some time since she visited such a bustling metropolis and the excitement sparked happily on her skin. Eventually, they parked at a little storefront and scurried inside, gloved hands laced, scarves brushing as the tiny bell in the door jingled jovially.

Mortal Christmas decorations already dangled from every surface, and they arrived at the register with wary smiles, making their orders hastily. The young cashier grinned back, showing off a ring in her lower lip as she rang them up. Lilith handed over their total, but the girl caught her wrist before they could leave the counter. For a moment, Zelda reviewed protocols for handling a spontaneous human smiting, then the offending cashier pointed up above their heads.

Mistletoe.

Zelda sighed.

“We make all the couples observe tradition.” The girl winked, blissfully unaware of her peril and the terror her insinuation unexpectedly struck into Zelda’s heart. “Store policy.”

Lilith looked to Zelda, confusion scrawled across her face.

Zelda huffed and leaned in to press a careful kiss to Lilith’s lips.

Surprised though she was, Lilith responded in kind, chasing her taste and cupping her jaw with one hand, resting the other at her waist. They stumbled apart at the call of their names for coffee. Each woman took her labeled cup, and they bolted back to the car.

They drove in silence for a while, Lilith staring at the road, Zelda down at her coffee.

“I have another surprise for you,” Lilith said.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“I’m quite certain you understand that the secret aspect would be entirely destroyed if I told you. You’ll spoil all the fun for both of us.”

Zelda grumbled into her cappuccino.

“Do you trust me?”

It caught her off-guard, and she shivered under all her layers. “Of course, I do.”

“Then can I take you on a little adventure before we call it a night?”

Will wonders never cease?

Zelda pretended to consider just long enough to put her on edge, drumming her nails on the side of her cup. “Yes, you may.”

Just as they passed the city limit, another familiar song came on.

_Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight_

_Lead me out on the moonlit floor_

A favorite of Hilda’s, this time.

_Lift your open hand_

_Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance_

She had requested it at Edward’s wedding, and their brother had spun her around the living room until they were both dizzy, giggling like schoolgirls.

_Silver moon’s sparkling_

_So kiss me_

Zelda flicked the radio off and thumbed away a renegade tear, examining her reflection in the sallow light of the passenger make-up mirror.

Lilith didn’t complain, nor even mention it, content to drive in silence through pine forests blanketed in white. She pulled over at the side of the slick road and climbed out of the car, circling to open Zelda’s door. Adjusting her knit beret, she took the offered helping hand and stepped into the snow, a soft crunch underfoot.

“Come on.” Lilith kept hold of her hand, leading her into the trees, two pairs of footprints trailing behind them.

A stream wound along the ground before them, a gash of motion through the settled stillness, and something emerged from the opposite bank, dripping shadows.

Zelda opened her mouth and promptly found it covered with the cool black leather of Lilith’s glove. She batted her hand away upon recovering, and they huddled behind a tree as the moose lowered its head to lap at the wintry water.

“All the magic in the world and I’ve never-” The witch whispered, breath warming the shell of Lilith’s ear.

“I know.”

The Queen of Hell knelt, infernal blood burning under her skin as her bare knees froze, gathering snow into her palms. She blew the delicate ivory flakes across her fingertips until they lighted like tiny white doves on Zelda’s eyelashes.

The moose keened low, echo following along behind it on its lumbering path out of sight, into the misty haze of the winter’s evening.

“Zelda?”

“Yes?”

“There’s no mistletoe here.”

“No, Lilith.”

“Can I kiss you anyway?”

“Yes, Lilith.”

_‘Cause there’s a magic in the way that we move on_  
_Always having to make a decision to stay_  
_I have to face it all ‘cause I’ve been running for too long_  
_I’m jealous of birds ‘cause down here it hurts_  
_But I think I’ll stay_

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I’m taking destination requests for future chapters, so if you want more road trip few-shots, send me a city or something! I adore you precious humans!
> 
> Love, Ruby


End file.
